Joshua. 20.
hi
things I like: ceramics, photography, politics, improper grammar, and anything that makes me think.
I'm and avid potter, amateur welder, experimental photographer, learning videographer, and a player of bike polo residing in columbus.
I hope you're having a great day.
I’m probably not going to be on here anymore, not that I have been but this isn’t the healthiest place for me to place my thoughts…so thanks to whom ever paid attention to this page. hope everyone does alright and I guess if I hop back on I’ll he a huge hypocrite, but what’s new under the sun. again thanks for what ever weird relationship this was
- ? Aug 26th 2015fuck you, know fuck
- ? Aug 26th 2015I’m so very ready for this year to be different. It’s not going to be unless i change that. i can change that. and I’m sorry
- ? Aug 26th 2015
Taylor on the Highline bed.
Lo-res 120 film scan.
(via creativerehab-deactivated201702)
Stunning portraits show not all redheads are white
There’s a lot of mythology surrounding redheaded people, but one ignorant assumption trumps them all: Redheads are white. The reality? They’re not. Photographer Michelle Marshall is raising awareness of this fact through her photo series “MC1R.” Even someone with two black parents can have red hair.
(Source: mic.com, via the-prince-of-tides)
- ? Aug 26th 2015
POPCORN MACHINE
Michael Sailstorfer, Boros Bunker, Mitte, Berlin, Germany
Photo: Victor Mark (CC)

Hey, this post may contain adult content, so we’ve hidden it from public view.

(Source: janskylar, via xbuffysummers)
is a beer after 5am just as socially acceptable as 5pm?
- ? Aug 12th 2015
Some nights I wish I could go back in life. Not to change shit, just to feel a couple things twice.
(Source: maridelmars, via veryspecialporn)

yeah that pretty much does it
I know no one on here anymore so I view this as an abstract journal. I’m currently sitting on my childhood couch but not in my childhood home. The sun is cresting on the east as I’m looking out the window briefly to dwell on the minute by minute mistake waterfall I’ve stepped into staying up this late yet again. I’m realizing I had a moderately existential realization last night, I got too high of course. Classic suburban youth taking a drug and not being able to handle the effect, wakes up and thinks they’ve seen some sort of god for saken light that no other being has seen before. But I digress, it was a very personal moment. Relating to my thoughts on well; my thoughts. After the first few waves of panic swept over my skin and my mind began to settle into the fact that this roller coaster was just starting I being looking inside myself. Not literally, I wasn’t on peyote folks. I began walking around the ideas I held towards women, goals, minorities, work ethic. The heavy shit no one really ever thinks about when they are relaxing on a saturday night . Maybe I’m alone here, I usually suppress these thoughts much like a person who is afraid of spiders suppresses spiders (violently). I had opened a can of worms and they were beginning to fill my head space. The ensuing onslaught of self loathing began to fill my head, decimating every positive counterpoint I could muster against it.
“I’m a good person deep down, am I not?”
“No, you’re not you hold to door for the endorphin rush you fuck”
“You avoid responsibility and maturity as though it were the plague, and sometimes even say you don’t”
“Am I talking to myself? Yeah I’m definitely talking to myself…”
“There is long line of mental illness in my family, along with manic depressive disorder…fuck this is the first voice I hear, tripping harder than I intended…this is the first time I meet my schizophrenic side. Age 20 and I’m fucking losing it you almost college dropout.”
“You fucked the ex girlfriend of your best friend as you poured your heart out over you past love….you disgraceful fuck.”
“I’m crying now, because I’m realizing how depressed I really am…it’s all a big theatre troupe upstairs isn’t it? Galavanting around like they know what the fuck their doing…and I’m just here crying outside the theatre wishing I didn’t need the cigarette to stop shaking.”
“I don’t have a single thing I’m proud of anymore do I…I love my mom right? Right. My father? Yeah….yeah? YEAH! why does that even take a second to realize? I’m sorry I got interrupted by the other guy who’s around here….what did you have to say? Right I don’t listen who cares.”
“..I’ve lost most of my friends to something, I’m not sure if it was me that pushed them away, or if it was just time and space separating us…but their not around anymore and that’s not settling to my insecurity and needs…I’d like them back now please.”
“I didn’t have sex for a year because I was still in love with you, god I was so in love with you….I was more in love with the idea of you than when we were laying together. I had turned you into the magical mythical beast when all you were was human and imperfect….”
“You’re a pitful fuck you know that…?”
“Yeah, I know that..and people say they think I have things ‘going’ for me…i wish they could see this…all of this…on display at pet land.”
At this point the melatonin had been hitting it’s mark pretty heavily. I began to sink out of my head and into the numbness of my legs and arms. My eyes sealed shut from the salt that was beginning to crust over. I really went to sleep thinking I was a misogynistic, lack luster, deflated, and faltering human….and I’m now sober enough to write all this down. I don’t know what any of this means. I’m a bit sad I guess, a lot bit sad. But fuck it…school is in 14 days…I just want to lay down and sleep this off like everything else I’ve done in my life. To all of you who know me on here I’m sorry your reading this. To all of you who read a piece of this…I’m also sorry. I can’t write, never learned properly in school…goodnight guys and gals…I need it more than anything now, my most harmful drug.
- ? Aug 9th 2015